


A Little Folly

by Dreamin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29169927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Molly meets a seductive stranger at a ball.
Relationships: Molly Hooper/Sebastian Moran
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	A Little Folly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



Miss Molly Hooper winced as yet another clumsy would-be suitor tread on her toes during a quadrille. The only thing that kept her on the dance floor was knowing her friends would tease her endlessly if she left in the middle of a dance. Finally, the tune ended and the unfortunate lord led her back to Mrs. Mary Watson’s side.

As soon as he left to seek out another young lady, Mary pounced. “How was it?” she asked, her blue eyes dancing with mirth. “I saw when he stepped on your foot. Good on you for not kicking his shin.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “I can safely say Lord Courtland won’t be asking for another dance.”

“You can’t reject them all, you know,” Mary said, still grinning.

“I’m three-and-twenty, I’m almost on the shelf and frankly, I can’t wait.” She waved a gloved hand at the assembly. “Look at them all. Every unmarried man a boor, an imbecile, completely unattractive, or-”

Her words died in her throat as another man entered the ballroom. He was tall, but then who wasn’t when one was only five-foot-three? If pressed, she would swear he had broader shoulders than any man in the room, though his evening wear fit him perfectly. His hair was an unfashionable shade of red but it suited him. She couldn’t make out his eyes from that distance but she assumed they were green. His face was clean-shaven but there was still something about him that made him look rugged, like he worked with his hands instead of spending his time dancing, gambling, and, she blushed to think it, whoring the night away like most men of the _ton_.

Mary noticed her attention and she looked over at its focus, grinning. “Ah, I see you’ve spotted Lord Moran.”

Molly stared at her. “Wait, _he’s_ a lord?”

“The new Baron Moran. He was in the army until his father’s death a month ago.”

_That explains the ruggedness, if nothing else._ “A firstborn son in the army? I never heard of such a thing.”

“Apparently, they had a falling out.” She smirked. “He’s coming this way.”

Molly’s eyes widened as she realized her best friend was right. As soon as he was close enough, he bowed and she and Mary curtsied.

Mary grinned widely. “Molly, may I present Sebastian, Baron Moran? My lord, this is Miss Molly Hooper.”

“It’s an honor, Miss Hooper,” he said, though it was more like a rumble of thunder, his voice was that deep.

“And you, my lord,” she said. “My condolences.”

He scowled as if she’d insulted him but merely said, “Thank you. If you’ll excuse me, ladies.” He stared to walk away then abruptly turned and walked back to them before holding out his hand to Molly. “On second thought, may I have this dance, Miss Hooper?”

She blinked in surprise then gasped softly as Mary elbowed her in the side. Lord Moran raised an eyebrow, his eyes, which she could see were slate blue, dancing merrily.

“Er, yes, my lord,” she said as she took his hand.

He grinned triumphantly as he led her to the dance floor and it was only then that Molly realized that the dance she’d agreed to wasn’t some casual quadrille, it was a waltz. The somewhat scandalous dance had only been in London for a year but it had swept the ballrooms by storm. Lord Moran pulled her into a proper hold and they began to glide across the floor.

It took very little for Molly to forget about everything but the baron’s eyes. They were full of mirth, most likely directed at her, but also … they held secrets, so many secrets. Ones she wanted to spend forever discovering.

He chuckled. “I believe it’s considered proper for dance partners to converse.”

She blushed, her eyes lowering to the complicated knot in his fine linen cravat. “Forgive me. I’ve never been truly comfortable conversing with people I’ve just become acquainted with.”

“Especially men?” he asked, his mirth obvious in his voice.

Molly raised her eyes to his and said simply, “Most men don’t even look at me twice, let alone speak with me.”

“They’re fools,” he murmured. “Damned fools.”

“Language, my lord,” she murmured, though more out of habit than anything else. In truth, she was mesmerized by him. He was easily the most intriguing man she had ever met.

Lord Moran chuckled. “Why should I hold my tongue when there are much better uses for it?” The gleam in his eyes was decidedly wicked.

Molly gasped softly, she couldn’t help it. When the dance was over, instead of bringing her back to Mary, he led her through the open French doors and into the moonlit garden. There were no other couples to be seen but she swore she heard a giggle or two from the shadows.

He murmured in her ear, “It seems others have the same idea. Fortunately, I know a hidden part of this garden.” He took her hand and led her far from the house, to the very edge of the gardens. There stood a folly, a fake ruin made to be decorative. This one took the shape of a two-story stone tower. He took her inside then led her up the spiral staircase to a small, darkened room that held only a narrow bed, a chair, and a small table, but the window looked out over the entire garden. A lone candle in a candlestick and a box of matches were on the table. He lit the candle then brought it over to the window.

Molly was absolutely enchanted by the view. She knelt in front of the window and looked out at the garden bathed in moonlight. Lord Moran knelt beside her, the warmth from his body seeping into her. After a moment, a thought struck her and she turned to him.

“This is your house, isn’t it? We’ve been to so many parties this Season that I stopped paying attention to who was giving them.”

He chuckled softly. “One of three, but this is my favorite.” He tilted his head, regarding her. “You know, you shouldn’t be out here all alone with me.”

She waved a gloved hand in dismissal. “Please, no one worries about my reputation. Amongst the _ton_ , I’m known as Mousy Molly Hooper.”

Lord Moran grinned. “Then you are the perfect person to fall into parson’s mousetrap.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “Hardly. I am the least likely person in England to be trapped into marriage.”

“It doesn’t have to be a trap,” he murmured before suddenly pulling her close and claiming her mouth with his.

Too surprised at first to respond, she was soon kissing him back just as passionately. He made her feel things with just his mouth that she knew no unmarried woman should, but she never wanted it to end.

At one point, Molly’s inexperienced enthusiasm had her biting his lip and he let out a soft growl, then she instinctively soothed the bite with a lick. He pulled away just enough to grin at her before kissing her again.

Somehow, they ended up lying on the narrow bed.

Somehow, their clothes fell away.

Somehow, they weren’t disturbed until early morning light came through the window.

And somehow, they returned every year to the little folly room on the anniversary of their engagement.


End file.
